


Unretractable Facts

by ufopossumfic (ufopossum)



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Badly written accent, Blackmail, Coming Out, Enemies to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Outing, Possibly OOC, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufopossum/pseuds/ufopossumfic
Summary: When Mark Beaks threatens to leak sensitive information, there's only one person Glomgold can turn to for help-- the one person who can't know the truth.(TW for threatened non-consensual outing. Mark Beaks is a crusty bitch.)
Relationships: Flintheart Glomgold/Scrooge McDuck
Comments: 13
Kudos: 158





	1. Unthinkable Thoughts

Water pattered against linoleum like a summer storm. A jaunty tune, some melody lost to the decades, bounced off the soundproofed walls. It had been a long day for Scrooge McDuck; another adventure had come and gone, and as much as he loved the thrill and the danger, he'd always had a soft spot for the aftercare. Rivulets of sooty water swirled down the shower drain as Scrooge rinsed away the grime of the day. As he turned off the water and wrapped his waist in a plush, monogrammed towel, there was nothing more stressful on his mind than a warm bathrobe, a good book, and a mug of tea.

The moment Scrooge opened his washroom door, those soothing plans crashed like Launchpad on a rough day. He quacked in alarm at the figure that had somehow snuck into his room.

"McDuck," said a gruff voice tinged with desperation, "I need yer help."

...

A few minutes after he kicked the intruder out into the hallway, Scrooge emerged from his room, dressed _not_ in his cozy bathrobe, but in a clean outfit that matched his usual day clothes. He glared at Glomgold, who had the sense to look slightly abashed. "What the blazes were ye doin' in my private quarters!?" Scrooge demanded, rounding on the shorter duck. "How did ye even get in here!?"

Glomgold shook his head in frustration. "Nevermind that! I need yer help! It's important!"

"What's so important that ye had to interrupt my peaceful evening?" Scrooge grumbled, stalking down the hall. Glomgold had to trot to match the peeved duck's pace.

"It's Mark Beaks!"

That gave Scrooge a moment's pause. He gave his wayward rival an incredulous look, opening the door to a small sitting room usually reserved for quiet reading. The fireplace was already crackling away, a testament to his ruined evening. Glomgold followed him into the room and claimed the more comfortable chair. Scrooge, aggravated but wanting to get the conversation over with, took the other seat with a minimum of glaring. "What's that _nouveau-riche_ blighter up to now?"

At that, Glomgold looked away. Scrooge raised a brow at the boastful billionaire's uncharacteristic nervousness. "He... found some dirt on me. Says he'll use it against me if I dinnae fund his latest stupid phone app." Glomgold crossed his arms and gave Scrooge a harsh look, though it was tinged around the edges with fear. " _You've_ got to do somethin' about it!"

Scrooge rolled his eyes. "Yer a grown man, Flinty, ye can fight yer own battles. This has nothin' to do with me. Now, if ye'll _excuse_ me--" He went to stand up.

"WAIT!" Glomgold sat up a bit straighter in panic. A log popped in the fireplace. "Ye _have_ to help me! A-Aren't ye supposed to be some kind of _good guy_?" 

Scrooge made a face. "I'm just an adventurer, not some superhero! Why does it have to be me? Call the police, or Gizmoduck, or something."

Averting his gaze once again, Glomgold squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "I cannae ask anyone else. The fewer people who know about this, the better." He hesitated before continuing, "Yer already sort of involved, so ye've got to help me fix it!"

Scrooge fixed Glomgold with a cold glare, making the shorter duck squirm even more. "How, _exactly_ , am I involved? What are ye not tellin' me?"

Glomgold looked up at the bookshelves, into the fireplace, _anywhere_ but at his rival. One hand raked anxiously through his fake beard. "T-That's... it's not..." He trailed off.

"Glomgold, what is this dirt? What's goin' on?"

The shorter billionaire had both hands buried in his beard now. He murmured something under his breath.

"What? I cannae hear ye when ye mumble."

"I'm... I'm gay, Scrooge."

It was barely more than a whisper. Finally, Glomgold met his rival's gaze, eyes wide with fear. "He-- Beaks, he's gonna... tell people, if I dinnae fund his app. You've gotta--"

Scrooge stood abruptly. He forced himself to speak past the lump in his throat as he paced. "That connivin' bastard... I still dinnae see what this has to do with me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him get away with that malarkey! Ye may be a right pain in my backside, but he cannae do this!"

Broad shoulders slumped in relief. "I knew ye would help... So what're ye gonna do? Kick his butt? Make his headquarters explode??"

"I'm going to go to his office and give him a stern talkin' to."

"What?? That's it?" Glomgold looked at Scrooge in disbelief. "He's not gonna stop just because ye tell him to!"

Scrooge smiled conspiratorially and twirled his cane. "Oh, I think he will."

After a moment, Glomgold caught on. "Oh! You've got an angle on him! I shoulda known. Blackmail the blackmailer! Classic!" Scrooge cut his rival's guffawing short with a look.

"I'm not gonna _blackmail_ him. I just think I'll be able to make him see reason." He walked over to the door, but paused before touching the handle. Glomgold looked at him, confused.

"What--" 

"Shh!"

Scrooge tilted his head towards the door, listening, and then quickly rapped the foot of his cane against the door around waist-level. A startled "Ow!" could be heard from the other side. Scrooge cast a bemused look over his shoulder at Glomgold, who watched in shock as Scrooge opened the door.

"You kids should know better!" There, right on the other side, were Scrooge's great-nephews and their honorary sister Webby, who had a glass in one hand and was using the other to rub at her ear.

"Uncle Scrooge! We just, uh--!"

Louie pushed Huey aside before he could say anything further. "We were just... playing a game! Not eavesdropping!"

Scrooge gave the boy a deadpan look. "With a glass?"

Louie shrugged. "It's kid stuff, you wouldn't understand!" He made to run off then, but Scrooge hooked his hood with his cane.

"How much did you kids hear?"

"Everything _except_ the juicy part!" Dewey exclaimed in annoyance. "He was whispering or something and we couldn't make it out. What'd he say??"

Huey chimed in, "Are you really gonna help Glomgold? Isn't he like, your worst enemy?"

Webby's voice called out louder than necessary, "What's going on? My ear's still ringing!"

With a sigh, Scrooge knelt down and pulled the kids into a huddle. "Alright, listen to me. I'm headin' over to Waddle HQ to have a little chat with Mark Beaks. I need you kids to stay here and keep an eye on Flinty. Make sure he doesn't try to steal anything or snoop around." The kids' affirmations drowned out Glomgold's objection to being 'babysat by babies'. Scrooge stood up.

"And one more thing. Ye are _not_ to pester him." The children glanced at each other in confusion. "Glomgold may be my business rival, but he's havin' a hard time of it right now. No pickin' fights with him unless he starts it--"

" _Hey!_ "

"-- and for goodness' sake, _dinnae_ bother him for details about this whole fiasco. I mean it."

After a moment of consideration, the four kids nodded to each other, then saluted to their uncle.

"You got it!"  
"Sure thing."  
"Yes sir!"  
"We won't let you down!"

With a smile, he ruffled the head-feathers of whoever he could reach. Scrooge turned back toward the room, and to Glomgold, who was fiddling with his beard again. Scrooge approached his rival and put a hand on his shoulder, startling the shorter man from his thoughts. "I want to thank ye."

"F-For what??"

Scrooge smiled wanly. "For bein' honest with me for once. And..." He squeezed Glomgold's shoulder, just a bit too firmly to be reassuring. "... I want ye to know that if this is just another one of yer schemes, I'll never speak to ye again." 

Glomgold sputtered, more in shock than indignation. "It's not!! The only one schemin' here is that lowlife Beaks! I swear it!"

Scrooge's smile returned, more genuine this time, and he patted Glomgold's shoulder before turning away. With a last goodbye to the kids, Scrooge gave his rival a long, measuring look, and then he left.


	2. Acceptable Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge confronts Mark Beaks, and learns he doesn't have as strong a grasp on the situation as he thought he did.

The drive to Waddle Headquarters was as jovial and fumbling as ever. What Launchpad lacked in grace, he made up for in speed and a willingness to carry the conversation. Scrooge spent the trip mostly lost in his thoughts, and as he absently thanked Launchpad and headed for the elevators inside, Scrooge found that he was of three distinct minds.

His first instinct was wariness. Glomgold had never been particularly trustworthy; he wasn't a viper like Beaks, but Glomgold would do or say just about anything if he thought it would help him get his way. Though utterly inept at subtlety, the heavyset duck was surprisingly crafty. Scrooge wouldn't put it past him to be working with Beaks to lure him into some sort of trap, though he had to admit a lie of this caliber would be _particularly_ low, even for the maniacal billionaire. Beaks, on the other hand, he could _absolutely_ see doing something like this, no questions asked.

Scrooge's second instinct, when he allowed his skepticism to fade, was fury. Though it hardly ever came up in conversation, Scrooge had no qualms about his own bisexuality, and the idea of someone with almost his level of power-- and arguably an even _higher_ level of public notoriety-- threatening to out someone over a _business deal_ of all things was sickening. Scrooge had every intention of giving the sleazeball a piece of his mind.

But his third instinct, and the one he was least comfortable examining for too long, was confusion.

_(Flinty said this involved me, aye? But it dinnae seem to have anything to do with me! Why was he so insistent that I deal with this for him? Shouldn't I be the last person he would trust with this? And... why did I agree to it anyway?)_

Scrooge shook his head as the elevator finally reached the right floor. He stepped out, flashing his visitor's pass to the security guard, and made his way down the hall with a hot ball of lead in his gut and the distinct feeling he was walking into something he didn't fully understand.

...

Mark Beaks was having a fantastic day. He had broken his personal record for likes on a selfie, his kale wrap for lunch had been _delicious_ , and he was about to get funding for his latest app! The old man had been far too easy to manipulate-- even for a master manipulator like Beaks. The signs had been easy to spot for someone with his expertise, and though he had been bluffing when he first approached the geezer, Glomgold's reaction had been enough to confirm his suspicions and get a foot on the door. Now he just had to wait for the money to roll in. Mark had given Glomgold 24 hours to comply with his demands, just to let the old fart stew in his juices before inevitably surrendering his bank account. There were still 18 hours left, but Beaks knew it was only a matter of time. He fully expected the funds to be transferred by the time his morning yoga session rolled around.

He did _not_ , however, expect a certain even _older_ fart to come storming into his office like the angriest of birds.

_"WHAT IN ITHAQUACK DO YE THINK YER PLAYIN' AT, BEAKS!?"_

A voice over the intercom said, "Mr Beaks, Scrooge McDuck is here to see you."

Mark pressed the button and replied, "Yeah, no, I got it, thanks." He turned his usual winning smile on the seething intruder. "Heeey, Mickey-Dee! What's shakin'?"

"Don't you _'heeey'_ me, ye smarmy windbag! What do you think yer doin' with Glomgold!?"

Mark's smile didn't even twitch, as he went back to tapping away at his phone, utterly unconcerned. "Oooh, is that what you're here about? No no, you misunderstand! Me and Glommy are buddies! We're just negotiating a little business deal! And by 'negotiating', I mean 'he graciously agreed to do what I want'! Cool, right?"

"No, _not_ cool!" Scrooge stormed over to Mark's desk, leaning over it on both hands. Being half Mark's height, the gesture was less intimidating than he intended. "He dinnae agree to _jack!_ Ye blackmailed him! And a more lowbrow bit 'a manipulation I've never seen in me life! How could ye dangle _that_ o'er a man's head!?"

"Oh, really easily, actually!"

Scrooge ground his teeth. "Beaks, level with me. I know for a fact that yer gay. What could possess ye to do somethin' like this to yer own kith!? Hae ye never heard'a the golden rule?"

Mark pretended to think for a moment. "Don't get caught?"

Scrooge pinched the bridge of his bill. " _No,_ ye ninny! Do unto others as ye'd have 'em do unto ye! Ye should'a learned that in nursery school! How would you feel if some blaggart threatened to out you!?"

Mark's eyes flicked up from his phone, one finger poised just above the touchscreen as a devilish grin stretched his beak. "Oh, please. _Everyone_ knows I'm gay. That wouldn't even be a threat. And even if someone tried it, my followers would go on a manhunt on my behalf!"

"So then what makes ye think people'll sit quietly if _you_ do it to someone? Are ye that egotistical?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Well, for one thing, Glommy is one of the most ridiculed people in Duckburg. Nobody is gonna run to his defense. Except _you_ , apparently." Mark grinned meanly as Scrooge flushed. "And for another thing, nobody's gonna be mad at me if I go on Tweeter and wish my _favorite_ old man, who's been there for me through thick and thin, and who helped me learn to accept myself, a happy Pride Month!" He draped a hand over his forehead dramatically. Scrooge squinted at him.

"Nobody's gonna buy that malarkey!"

Mark shrugged. "I disagree! And I think I know more about how people react to Tweeter posts than _you_ , old man." He turned his attention back to his phone, still observing Scrooge from under half-lidded eyes. "Besides, I'm surprised Glommy even told you about this. Didn't think he'd have the guts to go behind my back... So, when's the wedding?"

Scrooge's brow furrowed at that. "What the devil are ye talkin' bout?" He asked, bewildered. Mark only grinned wider.

"So he _didn't_ tell you!"

"Tell me what!?"

Mark mimed zipping his beak and throwing away the key. "Hey, it's not my place to say! Not yet, anyway. Did you _really_ think this was just about him being gay? _Please_. Give me a little more credit than _that!_ "

Scrooge backed up a step.

"Why don't you run back to your little frenemy. Oh, and let him know I changed my mind. He has two hours to decide, or I post _everything_."

Cursing under his breath, Scrooge turned on his heel and bolted for the elevators. Mark hummed a tune as he went back to playing with his phone.


	3. Off My Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glomgold comes clean.

The ride home was, if possible, even quieter than the ride to Waddle. Launchpad made a few fruitless attempts at chatter, but Scrooge's seething was palpable, and before long the cheerful pilot decided to just turn on the radio.

Scrooge was furious-- with Mark, with Glomgold, with _himself_. He spent the whole ride gritting his teeth. When they arrived, Scrooge slammed the limo door shut without a word and stalked back towards the sitting room.

As he pushed the door open, his angry words died in his throat.

Glomgold and Huey were engaged in a wrestling match over some book. Dewey was practicing his best sports commentator voice, bellowing over the pair's yelling, while Webby swung from the shelves, clearly planning to tackle Glomgold when he least expected it. Louie was picking Glomgold's pockets as best he could without alerting the old man.

" **STOP.** "

Everyone froze. Ten eyes fixed on Scrooge, who glowered, tapping his foot impatiently. Glomgold released the book, which Huey tucked into his hat, as Dewey stood up and Webby climbed back down. Scrooge turned his glare on Louie, who winced and tucked Glomgold's wallet back into his pocket.

Scrooge took a deep breath. "Kids, run along. I need to have a word with Flinty."

Grateful to be dismissed, the four children ran off down the hall. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving a still-angry Scrooge and an increasingly nervous Glomgold alone. For several moments, the only sound was the crackling of the slowly-dying fireplace. Just as Glomgold worked up the nerve to open his mouth, Scrooge spoke.

" _Ye sent me out there with faulty intelligence,_ " he accused hoarsely.

Glomgold had the gall to look indignant. "What!? I dinnae _once_ lie--"

"YE LIED BY OMISSION!" Glomgold flinched at Scrooge's shouting. "Ye came here, _asked_ for my help, and then ye left out crucial details! I looked like a blasted fool!" Glomgold looked panicked for a moment, but Scrooge cut him off once again. "And _no,_ the codger dinnae tell me whatever it was ye left out! All he said was you've got two hours to pay him or he posts it on the internet."

Glomgold tugged at his beard fearfully, but didn't seem able to put his words together. Scrooge sighed tiredly and walked over to stand in front of the fire. "I cannae help ye if ye don't tell me what I'm helpin' ye with!" Glomgold remained silent, and Scrooge chanced a look at him. "... Are ye... gettin' married or somethin'?"

Glomgold flushed brightly. "WH-- NO! I... WHAT!? _NO!_ I mean--!"

"Alright, take it easy!" Scrooge gestured for him to calm down. "I'm just tryin' to figure this out."

"Why are ye even trying?" Glomgold asked sullenly. Scrooge turned towards him in surprise. "Why do ye care?"

It was Scrooge's turn to go silent. He wasn't sure of the answer, himself. Or rather, he _knew_ the answer, but wasn't ready to face it. Instead, after a few pensive moments, he said, "Ye said this involves me somehow. What's the big secret? Why come to me at all? What does _he_ know and _you_ know, that I _don't?_ "

Glomgold shifted in place. He looked down at his webbers, flexing his toes in lieu of any other distraction. The fire was eating away at the last bits of viable wood, casting shadows on the shorter duck's face that made it hard to tell for sure if he was blushing.

"Flinty..." Scrooge's voice took on a gentle tone that startled Glomgold even more than the yelling. "I... I want to help ye. Tell me what's going on."

Silence again. Scrooge was almost ready to give up on the situation, but finally, Glomgold spoke up. Scrooge had never heard the boisterous man sound so small.

"... Promise ye won't laugh."

Scrooge gave him a befuddled look. "I won't laugh, Flinty--"

"Ye have to promise!!" Glomgold raised his voice tenuously. Scrooge huffed in response and held up his hand, using the other to cross his heart.

"Alright, alright, I promise!"

Glomgold looked away from him, brushing his fingers through his fake beard to soothe his nerves. It didn't help. The moment stretched on painfully before Glomgold murmured something too low to hear.

"Again with the mumbling! Will ye speak up--"

"I SAID, _stupid_ Mark Beaks figured out I've got _stupid_ feelings for ye and I dinnae know what to do, so I...!!" He covered his face with one hand to hide his anguish. Glomgold took a sharp inhale, trying to steady himself as his voice shook. "... So I came here. Okay!? I came here because I'm _stupid_ and I dinnae want anyone else to know this was happening!"

Scrooge stared at his rival, feeling for all the world like he'd just been hit square in the head with a two-by-four. He subconsciously rubbed at the side of his neck. His cheeks were warm under his feathers. "... _Oh_."

Glomgold hesitantly looked up at his rival, eyes flicking over his expression, searching for any hint of disgust or mockery. All he found was genuine surprise, and something else, something he didn't dare put a name to.

The grandfather clock down the hall chimed the hour, making both of the old ducks practically jump out of their skin. There was just about twenty minutes left before Mark's deadline. Glomgold sank down in his seat.

After a moment, Scrooge turned back to Glomgold and gave him an unreadable look. This man, this incorrigible, disruptive, obnoxious man who had spent the past few decades continually driving Scrooge up the wall...

This man who pushed him, challenged him, made him _work_ in a way only adventuring had ever done...

This man who drove him utterly barmy one day and saved his life from an alien invasion the next...

"Erm... What? Is my beard lopsided or something?" Glomgold's voice broke Scrooge out of his musings. The shorter duck returned his stare, uncertain. Scrooge smiled softly.

"I think..." He began cautiously, "... we have a lot to discuss. But yer short on time right now. If ye don't object, I've got a notion..."

...

Mark Beaks glanced at the time. One minute left. He had honestly expected this ploy to work. Still, even if he didn't get the money, he would get a ton of likes on this post, not to mention the joy of making one of his business competitors squirm. He readied his finger over the post button...

... and froze. A notification had popped up on his phone. Someone had tagged him in a picture? Confused, he went to look.

A moment later, a crash broke through the quiet evening as a smartphone was thrown through one of the windows at Waddle HQ, smashing to pieces on the ground far below. The last thing the screen displayed before powering off for good was a selfie; slightly blurry, as the two people taking it were unused to this new technology, but they seemed happy nonetheless, arms wrapped around each other. The photo's caption read: "Wishing @realMarkBeaks a great Pride Month! Thanks for bringing us together."


End file.
